Chapter 174

“Wow, this King of Masks round is going to be really tough today.”

As the host of *Masked Singer*, Song Byeong-soo joked, the panelists immediately responded.

After all, it had been several years since *Masked Singer* first aired.

By now, panelists were seasoned pros at delivering quick and sharp reactions.

“I’m Ashen Crow. It’s been nearly half a year since we’ve had a king take the throne. It’s high time for a new champion to emerge.”

“Ah, but Man-Lap Rabbit’s skills aren’t ordinary either, so it’s hard to say.”

Though the conversation was scripted to appear evenly matched, most were secretly predicting Ashen Crow’s victory.

This was largely due to Man-Lap Rabbit’s consistent style up to this point – avoiding technical showpieces and favoring emotive ballads. While excellent in their own right, they seemed to be reaching the point of diminishing returns.

Without some kind of change in the finals, Ashen Crow’s victory seemed inevitable. That’s what most people thought.

“If this were a live broadcast, I wonder how the audience would react,” Song Byeong-soo mused as he watched the two finalists take the stage.

Online communities were similarly leaning toward Ashen Crow, though Man-Lap Rabbit still had some supporters.

“Now, Man-Lap Rabbit who dares to challenge the king! Your singing skills are already top-tier! Let’s hear what song you’ve prepared for us today!”

With that, Song Byeong-soo passed the microphone first to Seoyeon, who was playing Man-Lap Rabbit.

“Please don’t overhype me,” Seoyeon silently pleaded.

Honestly, she hadn’t expected to make it this far. She had put a lot of effort into rearranging her songs…

“No.”

She shouldn’t sound weak. She had made it to the finals after all.

Looking out at the audience, she saw her mother and Joo Su-yeon clapping enthusiastically. Her father, sitting beside them, was yawning but she knew he was cheering her on in his own way. He was just someone who didn’t like showing his feelings openly.

“Of course, neither do I.”

Though she had her own worries recently, she tried not to show them and focus on the competition.

As the prelude began, the audience’s gazes shifted. Perhaps it was unfamiliar music? Or maybe because of the extensive arrangement, the tune was hard to identify.

No, the real reason their expressions changed was something else entirely.

“An anime song?”

“Seriously? Here?”

Seoyeon had chosen a nostalgic piece – the theme song from a certain imported anime that had its original theme replaced with a Korean version.

Back then, it was common to replace imported anime themes with original Korean songs. The one Seoyeon chose was particularly famous among those adaptations.

So while the general audience might’ve been somewhat familiar with it, they certainly didn’t expect it to show up in the King of Masks finals.

Song Byeong-soo, who had been quietly listening, was also surprised. While adaptations of anime themes weren’t unheard of, bringing one to the King of Masks stage was unexpected, especially from a participant who had mainly been choosing emotive songs.

The song’s original title was “Calmness,” performed by a renowned Korean rocker. Though it was part of an anime with gun-wielding characters, it wasn’t rock music but rather an unusually emotional piece.

To the average listener, they would never guess it was an anime theme song based solely on its melody.

Seoyeon herself hadn’t seen the anime, everything she knew was from Sua.

As she brought the microphone to her lips and looked towards Sua in the audience, both Sua and Joo Young-bin were staring wide-eyed, clearly shocked that Seoyeon would choose this song.

Seeing that, some of the tension she’d been holding in her chest seemed to melt away.

“Back then, mom was in the gaming club.”

Sua explained the song’s background. The gaming club had originally consisted of three members.

“Mom’s friend, and another student who happened to join.”

In fact, there had been more members initially, but they all quit because Sua’s mother was too serious about game development.

“Apparently, they thought it was a gaming-playing club.”

It was supposed to be about playing games, not making them. However, Sua’s friend was very dedicated to game creation.

Still, they weren’t sure where to begin or what kind of game to make.

“Mom’s friend was an amazing writer, or so I think…”

However, when they tried to turn those stories into games, it didn’t quite work out. Since there was no one who could handle programming, it fell to Sua, who was originally hired for drawing, to take on that role as well.

Sua, who had difficulty saying no, ended up taking on more responsibilities than intended.

“Then, the teacher said we needed one more member…”

A warning had come that if they didn’t have enough members, the club would have to dissolve. So each of them was tasked with finding someone. That’s how Sua crossed paths with a male student by chance.

“If he likes games, he must like comics too!”

With that assumption in mind, it would be easier to have conversations with him about similar topics.

So Sua had mustered her courage and approached him.

“Turns out, mom was talking about the original song of that anime, but Young-bin thought it was the Korean adaptation. It was so embarrassing.”

Hence why their conversations had been going off in different directions. Even so, by sheer coincidence, Young-bin ended up joining the gaming club.

At the time, there wasn’t much else to do, and it looked interesting enough.

“Then your dad, when he joined, got into a big argument.”

He questioned the lack of clear goals and purpose in just making games aimlessly. He argued they should be more serious about it.

Through this process, after various events, they managed to make a game together. They even won an award.

It was strange to think about how that all came to be.

“This song marks the beginning of how mom and dad first met.”

A precious song, one that marked the start of her father’s dreams.

“Maybe when hearing this song, your dad didn’t know he’d end up like he is now.”

A small beginning can lead to great things.

Seoyeon realized why Sua had said this – likely about her role as Lee Yoo-joo and the reason why she started acting.

Young-bin too had started his journey accidentally through someone else’s recommendation.

“But I think I’m different from Yoo-joo.”

Yoo-joo was someone who couldn’t see beyond that role, having only learned that and unable to choose anything else.

That’s why Sua thought it was pitiful that Seoyeon had taken on the role of Yoo-joo.

“But even as a child, you wanted to do something else besides acting, right?”

At first it seemed like acting, but as Seoyeon grew, she realized it was slightly different.

“Now you’re acting for sure, but there must be a reason for it. It’s just that… you’re unsure if this reason is the right one.”

The beginning. Seoyeon started acting because of Sua’s suggestion, just as her father Young-bin’s career began similarly through recommendation.

However, while Young-bin used that suggestion to determine his future and dreams, was she doing the same?

“Is my choice to be an actor really because of mom’s words?”

She wasn’t entirely sure. She had genuinely made up her mind to become a great actress.

However, there was some uncertainty regarding the reason behind that decision and about what she truly wanted to do.

Ultimately, she wasn’t certain if this was really Seoyeon Joo’s dream.

Was it merely a legacy left by her past self?

Though Sua said Seoyeon was different from Yoo-joo, Seoyeon thought this wasn’t entirely true. In their attachment to the past, Seoyeon and Yoo-joo were similar.

The only difference was their starting points.

Yoo-joo had no other options to see beyond her circumstances. Seoyeon, because she simply couldn’t forget something she’d seen in the past.

Wasn’t it because she naturally could think of nothing else, like Yoo-joo?

That’s why she couldn’t let go so easily. Having so desired it in her previous life, choosing that path felt like reverting to her past self.

“That’s why I chose this song.”

While Sua and Young-bin were part of the reason, that wasn’t the only factor.

Stillness.

The title of this song felt like it was narrating her past life where she gained nothing substantial, where the glimpses of brilliance she’d seen then continued to hold her back now.

That stillness. That loneliness.

Seoyeon’s emotions flowed through the microphone, her clear voice captivating the audience as it reverberated throughout the stage.

“Did I do well?”

MC Song Byeong-soo hesitated, swallowing. Man-Lap Rabbit always sang well, which was why she’d reached the finals.

He had assumed her victory was partly due to having easier opponents – either those with lesser talent or ones stuck with songs that didn’t highlight their skills.

Now though, he wasn’t so sure. The audience seemed entranced by Man-Lap Rabbit’s performance.

Lacking showy techniques, her rendition was the most emotionally immersive singing they’d ever heard.

It was as if she was effortlessly blending into the music, naturally drawing listeners in.

As the microphone fell away from Seoyeon’s lips and the song ended…

For a moment, silence enveloped the stage.

But it was fleeting.

“That was Man-Lap Rabbit’s performance!”

As Song Byeong-soo’s voice cut through the air, applause erupted from the audience. Cheers and claps filled the space.

“Amazing!”

One voice stood out amidst the cheers, clear to Seoyeon’s ears.

She saw Sua wiping away tears and Young-bin enthusiastically clapping and cheering.

Smiling beneath her mask, Seoyeon thought expressing herself through song like this wasn’t so bad after all.

And yet…

“No, it’s cowardly!!”

There was another person caught in the past – another attachment that lingered.

***

“This song was originally about the first meeting between my parents.”

After the performance, Man-Lap Rabbit spoke, her voice distorted.

As she listened to these words as Ashen Crow, Yeo-hee tilted her head skeptically.

Of course, she knew. How could she not?

Still, she could feel her manager Aram’s pitying gaze from the audience, as if watching a woman unable to let go of the past.

Someone who understood their relationship well enough to give her that look.

“Parents’ memories, huh.”

“Yeah.”

“So does that mean you’re part of this memory?”

“Perhaps.”

“Memories lost…”

“…”

Their exchange conveyed this sentiment, or so it seemed.

Whether her imagination or not, manager’s pitying look was undeniably real.

“Does he really know my identity?”

Yeo-hee watched Seoyeon, who was giving a brief interview to the audience after the song ended, her voice similarly distorted.

From across the stage, she felt an overwhelming sense of nostalgia.

Perhaps it was naivety from youth, or some hidden concerns, but Yeo-hee couldn’t tell what they were.

Being that age, one could easily be full of worries, as she herself had once been, and still was.

However, that was something natural to being human.

As Yeo-hee looked out at the audience and heard Young-bin’s voice cheering Seoyeon on, she understood more than others might.

Having overheard their previous conversation, she knew the concerns hidden beneath his cheerful exterior.

“Funny.”

Honestly, it was an unfamiliar sight to her.

The person she knew was someone who charged ahead regardless of headaches and obstacles. When had he begun to hesitate like this?

“Time passes.”

Even if she remained a youth in spirit, perhaps others like Young-bin and Sua were different.

Did seeing this evoke melancholy for her?

Absolutely not.

“Wow, what a story. A song embodying parental memories. Even Ashen Crow might find this a tough match!”

That’s when Song Byeong-soo turned to her for the next performance, seemingly declaring the impossibility of victory even for Ashen Crow.

While not an impolite host, his implication was clear enough.

Watching him pass the microphone, Yeo-hee smiled beneath her mask. Admittedly, Seoyeon did perform exceptionally well today.

A song that capitalized on her strengths to a hundred percent degree – enough to make Yeo-hee herself clap involuntarily.

“Still…”

But sorry.

She had no intention of losing.

“My memories will win.”

At least today.

With that declaration, Yeo-hee signaled behind her and the sound of a distorted electric guitar whined.

Seoyeon, who had just descended from the stage, turned back.

This prelude…

She had heard it recently.

***

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